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“When?” I ask.
“Next Saturday.”
“But that’s—”
“Only eight days,” he interrupts.
Leo’s been at the Philadelphia address for three years. There’s no reason for anyone to move him in the next week. But now that I know my brother’s alive, I don’t want to wait for my revenge.
“Come over here,” Trap says.
My body is conditioned to obey his command. I cross the room without making a conscious decision to do so. Just two nights ago, Trap and I made love without any power play at all, setting aside our usual dynamics of dominance and submission, the ones that make my blood sing. The bond between us that night was deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. More solid. More pure.
That’s the connection that ignites every nerve in my body as Trap cups the back of my head. He tilts my neck until I’m staring right into his shadowed green eyes. “I know how much this means to you. I understand. But we need to make sure we can do the job safely. On Long Island…”
On Long Island, Sawgrass Corporation sent a team of its best men, an assassination squad determined to take out the Herzogs before they could do more harm. Eight Sawgrass men died, and three more are still in the hospital.
Eight deaths, eleven families changed forever, all because of me.
What the hell am I doing? How can I put more men at risk to retrieve Leo? What will I do if Trap doesn’t come back from Philadelphia?
“Alix,” Trap says, his voice a stern warning. How does he do that? How does he read my mind? His fingers still press into my hair, but now it feels like he’s holding me back instead of reassuring me.
“I’ll go there alone,” I say. “I’ll get him out.”
“The fuck you will,” Trap says.
I have to convince him. Protect him. “No one will expect me to show up there. It’ll be a lot easier that way. A lot safer.”
“Safer for who?” Trap asks, and nothing about his question is safe. His wrist has tightened, like he’s trying to keep from crushing my skull.
I know he won’t hurt me. Trap will never hurt me, not without my consent—and he’ll only do that in the twisted sexual world we both need.
But I wouldn’t put it past him to lock me away. To keep me someplace safe and secure, where he knows the Herzogs can never reach me.
“Safer for who, Alix?” He repeats his question, standing close enough to bite me. Heat radiates off his body like he’s a nuclear blast furnace.
I fight to keep from turning away, from sheltering my face from the storm. “For you,” I whisper.
His jaw tightens and his hand shakes. “Youdon’t keepmesafe. That’s not your job.”
“But—”
“That’s never your job,” he says.
And then his lips are hard against mine, punishing. I have to open to him, have to give him my tongue, my teeth, my breath. He walks me back until my desk digs into the backs of my thighs. He presses more, so I’m sitting, and he plants his arms around me.
He’s a volcano seething toward eruption. A tornado. A hurricane. I moan beneath him, my determination to retrieve my brother scoured away by Trap’s greater will.
That sound ignites something inside him, and he sweeps a stack of papers off my desk. I gasp in alarm, barely catching the new camera before it goes flying too. I clutch it to my chest, heart pounding.
“What the fuck is that?” Trap asks, and I think he might throw it across the room just to get his hands on my breasts.
“The video camera,” I say. “The new one.”
His eyes gleam. “Show me.”
The order rockets into all the melted places inside me. I have no doubt what he’s asking. He doesn’t want a lesson on how the camera works. He wants to make a video of me. Of us. He wants to film us having sex.
